Assume the Condition

This morning I awoke in my boyfriend's bed after a long night of semi-erotic nightmares only to hear the twinkling voice of a female person, followed by the monotone voice of a male person that would not stop talking. This, I knew, was one of my man's roommates, let's call him- Banana Rama. Naturally when I heard Banana Rama blathering on about gkw (God Knows What), I ASSUMED the female listener was his girlfriend, let's call her- Peanut. Peanut is a friend of mine, and I was surprised that she was over at 9:30 in the morning since she teaches high school, which starts at the ungodly hour of 7:15. I also noted to myself that Peanut has been playing hooky quite a bit lately and I thought, "Man, Peanut's really pushing it. I didn't know she was such a Ferris Bueller"

I sat and listened intently to the female voice, which had become less of a voice and more of a validating squeak to Banana Rama's morning soliloquy. Hmm. Peanut is more of a squawker than a squeaker and this, this was quite odd. My boyf- lets call him- Mister E.- had left and I was alone with my suspicions. Who the hell was out there if not Peanut? Did Banana Rama have a strange high-pitched girl come over at 9:30 am for a quick one-sided convo over coffee and facebook? Who would want to do that? It's a Wednesday! Did Banana Rama have a friend from out of town staying over? An early-rising college pal, passing through? Catching Up? Moving On? OR WAS BANANA RAMA A SHAMELESS CHATTEROX SCUM MAGGOT CHEAT??!??!!!

I had to pee.

I left the room and yes, my friends, yes, it was as my imagination imagined. No Peanut. Not one pad thai inkling of a Peanut. Just the Squeaker- Let's call her- Cookie Two Shoes- listening squeakily to Banana Rama banana ramble on about dinosaurs. I had never seen Cookie Two Shoes before in my life. Who was this minx? This home-wrecker? This bar-hopping Banana Rama lovin' tartlette?

I muffled a fast Hi. to Cookie Two, who cheerfully Good Morning'ed me back, and shuffled nervously to the bathroom. Pondering my deep moral dilemma as I peed, I noted with paranoia that Banana Rama had not looked me in the eye, had not said hello, and in fact, did not introduce me to his fair concubine. This was big, bad, and shit: That scum maggot cheat!!!!

On my way back to the bedroom, I passed the happy hanky-pankers without a word and immediately texted Mister E.


Me: Who is this Cookie Two Shoes?

Mister E.: Banana Rama's Fuck Buddy.

Me: *&^%*%$$%@#!!!!!

Mister E.: J/K. Cookie Two is (Mister E.'s other roommate- Let's call him- Duncan D.) Duncan D.'s lovey dove.

Me: Oh. Ha. I assumed Cookie Two was Banana Rama's newest side of scum maggot slaw. Ha. My bad.

Mister E.: I knew you would.


Thankfully, I had this text exchange with Mister E. before I could hop on the 'ol g chat and ruin Peanut's day with graphic Cookie Two Shoes Banana Rama Split with extra whip cream and hot fudge cherry on top imagery. Crisis averted. Case closed.

I learned a valuable lesson today, One that the wise and best selling author Don Miguel Ruiz has thoroughly divulged in his self-helper- The 4 Agreements:

The Big Number 3: DON'T MAKE ASSUMPTIONS.

DO NOT MAKE ASSUMPTIONS. Hmmph. Fine. Good plan. Good Solid Plan. I'm on it like frosting on a cupcake. Although, Poo: That doesn't sound very fun. And wait, does this mean I have to stop living my life like I'm going to win the lottery in 2012 and consequentially end world hunger? Crap.